Travels
by MCmondo
Summary: Disconnected one-shots involving Tony and Ziva. Each one will be set in / based around a different method of transport. Part one: Train. T/Z
1. Train

**Had this piece lying around my files for a wee while. Was originally planning on writing A 'Planes' one shot to use for part one (so the chapters would be 'Planes, Trains, Automobiles.' Get it?) But I ultimately decided to just post this in hope that you lovely lot would help cure my writer's block. It's a bit silly, but I Hope you likey. Other entries will be posted at an inconsistent and unpredictable rate, as per.**

* * *

Ordinarily, a busy train carriage would annoy the hell out of Tony. They were noisy, cramped and often had you facing the same crying baby dilemma that plane journeys were more famous for. And these issues were just scratching the surface of the horrors of public transport. There were creepy weirdos everywhere, a variety of smells—the origins of which Tony tried desperately not to think about too much—and a general sense of grossness he'd never been able to shake. That's why he'd lived most of his life avoiding the subway unless it was his only option.

But this wasn't the subway. It wasn't even inner-city transport, in fact. It was north-bound journey that was scheduled to end in Toronto. It was a lot more warm and comfortable than a rickety rumble under the streets of their nation's capital, and the high volume of passengers proved to be a lot less imposing than it would be in that instance. They weren't even creepy and weird-looking. This wasn't so bad, after all. Not to mention the fact that, for Tony and his partner, busier meant better in this case. It made it easier to keep a subtle eye on their suspect.

Speaking of partners and suspects, Ziva slid another quick glance over Tony's left shoulder in the direction of where their person of interest was seated at their dining table. He guessed there'd been no movement when she returned her attention back to her own pasta dish.

''Our cowgirl done anything incriminating yet?''

Her face was a mixture of confusion and frustration. How familiar. ''Cowgirl?''

''Yeah,'' he shrugged, ''you know, making a run for the border and all that.''

She swallowed another bite of her dinner. ''She might not be running. We still don't know what she is up to, remember? And I thought that was the Mexican border.''

''Only in the Wild West,'' he said with a smile. ''Our own adventures take place in the Enthralling East. Most of them, anyway.''

''There is nothing enthralling about sitting still on a train all day.''

He sat back and took another sip of his soda— (beer was a big no-no when he was on duty.) ''Well, we are in first class, Sweetcheeks.''

All that earned him was a small grunt of what may well have been disapproval as she looked back at the cowgirl in question again. Ziva had been in this mood all day. Her usual banter and flirtation made way for crankiness and an unwavering focus on the job. He supposed focus was a good thing, in general, but she never usually went about her work in this manner. She was usually a lot more fun. It bothered him that she didn't seem to be enjoying his company in any way on this trip. It was like she was itching to be on her feet and kicking some ass. In fact, she'd been giving him that impression for a while, and the sudden realisation about what that could mean made his stomach drop.

''Are you bored?'' he asked, not really thinking.

Her reply came quickly and without hesitation. ''Yes.''

Tony was pretty sure she was only talking about her current mood, and not the bigger picture. ''I don't mean right now. I can see that you're bored right now,'' he clarified, and when her eyes met his for the first time in what felt like hours, he saw that confusion again. ''What I meant was, are you bored generally? With work, with life?''

Her frown deepened. ''What makes you ask that?''

''It's just, lately, you seem kind of…'' He wasn't sure how to describe it. Not without pissing her off, anyway.

''Kind of what?''

Her curious expression was now replaced by one that struck him as far more self-conscious. He doubted it would look that way to anyone else, given the fact that Ziva generally had impeccable control over her outward emotions, but he knew her well enough to know that she was simply seeking his outlook and opinion, and not looking for an excuse to stab him with her fork.

He still wanted to tread carefully, however. ''You just seem a little frustrated, that's all. Like you're tired of being sat still.'' Her eyes fell away and her face softened slightly. ''And I'm talking about the bigger picture here, not just this particular case,'' he felt the need to explain.

She poked at some pasta with her fork, clearly not interested in eating it any time soon. ''You are basically saying I've been a pain in the ass, yes?''

Tony couldn't help but chuckle, and was relieved to see the corner of her mouth lift slightly. ''Pretty much. But I'm used to that.'' Her smile grew slightly, but his thoughts turned more serious. ''I'm not used to spending time with my best friend when her mind always seems to be elsewhere.''

Ziva's smile fell slowly. ''It is not elsewhere,'' she argued weakly.

Unconvincingly. ''I'm not sure I believe you.''

''Tony,'' she said with slight frustration as she stole another glance at the suspect.

He knew her, though. He could tell when he really needed to drop something or when, on the odd rare occasion, she actually wanted to talk something out but insisted on resisting him. She still wasn't used to this whole 'sharing' thing and he understood that. He just wondered why her defences were still always up when it was just them, and wasn't sure how to play this, but he decided it wasn't worth potentially pissing her off while on the job.

''If you want me to drop the bone, I'll drop the bone,'' he shrugged, before leaning forward again to try and tackle another king prawn.

Ziva's eyes were back on him now. He could feel them burning into him, and when he heard her take another deep breath he braced himself for her to actually start being honest. ''I am not bored,'' she insisted, only this time he believed her words.

He gave up on his food again and looked back to her. ''Really?''

She nodded. ''I may have been a little restless lately, but it has nothing to do with the job. I still love what I do, and my life is a lot less boring than most people's.''

He couldn't argue with that, but it was still Ziva. ''But it used to be even more crazy.''

''Yes.'' She smiled again, almost shyly, in fact. ''I think crazy is a good way of describing it.''

''Is that was this is about?'' he dared to ask. ''You miss the spy game?''

''No.''

Her speedy and emphatic answer gave him more relief than he thought possible. He released a breath he didn't realise he was holding. ''Okay,'' he said, deciding to move on from anything Mossad related. ''If it's not the job itself, is it your co-workers?''

It was a nothing question, really, and he knew it. Ziva loved her team like they were family (he was pretty sure of that), and he was almost 90% convinced that she wasn't suddenly feeling restless and frustrated because of him. Well, maybe it was more like 75%.

But, sure enough, there was unmistakable affection in her eyes, confirming the nothingness of the question. ''Of course not, Tony. It is nothing you need to worry about.''

Her eyes flicked away as she checked up on their increasingly uninteresting suspect again. When it was clear nothing important was happening in that regard, he leaned over and rested his hand on top of hers in a gesture of gentle determination. Another heavy sigh left her mouth after he did so, only this time it wasn't one of frustration. It seemed more like she was simply tired of trying to keep up the brave act.

''Hey,'' he said softly in hope that she would return her focus to him. It worked. ''If it's worrying you, then it should be worrying me as well.''

A half smile, however brief, seemed to pull at her mouth. ''You do not need to be looking out for me all the time, you know.'' Her tone went hand in hand with the brief smile as a signal of how touched she really was, though.

''Of course I do. What else am I here for?''

She tilted her head in a subtle gesture to their suspect. ''Well, hopefully, you are here to help me catch our suspect red-handed as they try and leave the country.''

He shrugged his lips. ''Yeah, there's also that,'' he conceded. ''But you know that whole thing about men not being able to multi-task? That's a myth.''

''Are you sure?'' she teased.

''I'm fairly sure.''

Her face fell slightly once more and he felt the air between them turn serious again. He had completely forgotten that her hand was still resting under his until he felt her flip it and grip his fingers gently. ''Schmiel is in hospital,'' she finally revealed. Just the sound of her voice was enough to make him know it was bad, but she apparently wanted to elaborate. ''He is dying, Tony.''

That time her voice had wavered, and he felt his stomach twist with sympathy. ''Oh God, Ziva, I'm so sorry. Any Idea what it is?''

''They are not sure. But he is very old now, so it could a number of things.''

There were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes now, and he found himself gripping her hand even tighter. ''Is he in Israel?''

She nodded and wiped at her eyes with a look of self-admonishment. ''Tel Aviv. If he knew it was all about to end, he would never want it to happen outside of his home country.'' A small, proud smile formed on her otherwise worried face. ''He has always been very proud of his roots.''

From the small amount of time he'd spent with Schmiel Pinkus, Tony had to admit that the old gentleman never gave off the impression that he was patriotic. But he supposed he didn't have many other Israeli's to compare Schmiel to. The late Eli David was so extreme in his patriotism that his country always came before his family, so Tony supposed that set the bar pretty high in terms of his expectations of what a proud Israeli looked like. Schmiel did, however, seem to be a very passionate man, so it wasn't all that hard to imagine him wanting to spend his last days at home.

When he noticed more tears gathering in his partner's eyes, though, Tony realised that he needed to focus on her. ''You going to fly out to see him?''

She cleared her throat, no doubt trying to find some composure. ''I want to, but I have not yet found the time.''

He frowned when he suddenly remembered that her restless behaviour had lasted for what felt like weeks. ''How long has he been in hospital?'' he asked.

She shrugged. ''A few weeks, maybe.''

''So that's why you've seemed kind of—''

''Restless? Testy? A general pain in the ass?'' she asked.

He tilted his head and kept the conversation serious. ''You don't like sitting still when you should be over there with him.''

Her sad sigh was becoming too familiar. ''Yes. That is probably the best way to sum it up.''

Tony got a strange feeling in his chest at the sight of her face. Because, honestly, you didn't have to know her for the best part of nine years to know that she was trying her hardest to stop herself falling apart. And if you happened to know her and love her like Tony did, it only made it harder to watch. He suspected the feeling may have been his heart breaking for her.

''I am sorry,'' she murmured, again wiping at her eyes. He wasn't sure what the apology was for, and indicated such with his frown. Thankfully, she continued. ''It is not fair that I have been difficult this whole time. It is just that…Schmiel means a lot to me.''

Her ran his thumb over her knuckles. Back and forth, back and forth. ''You never need to apologise for that. I know how much you love him.''

''He is like family,'' she said simply. ''Since my father died, he has been the only family I have left in Israel.''

''I know. I'm sorry, Ziva,'' he repeated. ''But you've still got us, right?'' He squeezed her fingers lightly. ''We're always going to be here for you.''

The deep, brown eyes he saw so often and loved more than any others softened again as she held his gaze once more. She seemed to hear what he was really saying. ''I should have told you sooner. I know having someone there to talk to makes it all easier. I am still not quite used to having that someone. But you are always there for me and you deserve to know these things.''

''You just needed some time, Ziva.''

She nodded again. ''Maybe.''

''You should fly out to him.''

Her expression morphed into one of frustration for a few seconds. ''There have been so many cases recently. And I know how much Gibbs hates being down an agent. I am not sure—''

''He'll understand,'' Tony cut in softly. ''Everybody will, Ziva. Just ask him.''

She hummed as she considered it, but still didn't look convinced.

''If you don't, I will,'' he added.

The carriage jolted and shook slightly as it trundled along the tracks, and Ziva shot him a warning look. ''No,'' she said, pointing her finger at him. ''I do not need you fighting my battles for me.''

''Exactly. So prove it.''

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face. ''Hmm,'' she grunted after a few moments. ''I suppose I could bring it up after the case.''

He nodded and smiled in approval. ''You should. He won't mind one bit. Our gruff marine boss may be a hard-ass, but he has an unquestionable soft spot for you.''

She glanced at their suspect again. ''Is it as soft as your soft spot?''

He smirked. ''Oh, I doubt it.''

The classic teasing smile was just about to form on her pretty face when something behind him caught her attention. ''Someone has joined her,'' she reported in a far more professional tone.

Tony found himself removing his hand from hers and falling back into his special agent mindset.

''A man,'' she continued. ''He has a 9mm in his jacket.''

He frowned and found himself itching to turn around. ''You can tell that from here?''

''Yes. They are both standing now and are headed to the next carriage.''

''Okay,'' he nodded. ''Should we follow?''

Her eyes narrowed as she thought it over. Tony tried his best not to think about how cute it looked. ''I think so. They don't seem to be friendly acquaintances. It is possible that he might be an accomplice.''

''Maybe he's helping her get away.''

''Perhaps.''

He placed his glass of soda down and got to his feet, holding his hand out for her. ''Then, we better catch them in the act, don't you think?''

She looked at his hand, and then at him, before smiling and letting him help her to her feet. ''Whatever the act is.''

''I just hope it's not sex.''

As he started pulling her down the carriage and towards the doors, he heard her responding chuckle, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face and spread a certain warmth through his chest. He didn't have time to focus on that, though. And he knew he would get to experience the feeling another million times in his life— (provided Ziva remains a part of it}—so he didn't worry about that too much. Instead he focused on the job at hand, rather than the woman holding his hand.

When they stepped through the second set of doors, he spotted their two suspects in discussion at the far end of the corridor. He was happy to see no one else walking around, but he remembered this was the carriage with the private cabins, the doors for which stretched down their right hand side opposite the windows. The man—who he'd been assured was armed—shot Tony and Ziva a suspicious look straight away, leaving them with no choice but to spring into action.

Ziva reacted first, spinning Tony around and pressing him up against the wall. Before he could even blink, her mouth crashed against his in a searing kiss that brought a moan from his mouth and made the whole world seem to stop. He was deepening it and running his hand through her hair to the back of her neck before he could stop himself, and all the while he couldn't help but feel a little fooled by their display himself. You wanted it to look natural when you were undercover as a couple, but he now knew more than ever that they didn't have to worry about that.

This felt as natural as anything.

Something pleasant and delicious could be heard coming from her throat, too, and it only made him greedier for her. She pulled away too soon, though. When Ziva's eyes met his, they were dark and heavy and hypnotising. He could see just how real her desire was, and it seemed to equal his in terms of magnitude. Something told him that their 'fake' kiss was to be continued. Somewhere private, and preferably when they weren't on the job.

''I think my soft spot just became a hard spot,'' he whispered.

She sent him a sultry smile and leaned into him, her knee between his legs. ''I can tell.''

''They still looking?''

''Mhmm.''

Tony swallowed, trying to regain composure. But Ziva was still there, with her eyes and her hair and her smell, and he would be a liar if he said it wasn't all driving him nuts. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder again and whatever she saw happen was enough for her to take a step back and leave his personal space. He was still under her beautiful spell, but now he could breathe a little easier and concentrate his mind on something other than what she would look like after being stripped of her clothing.

''They went into one of the cabins,'' she told him, only just succeeding in sounding professional.

Tony blinked his way back to Earth. ''Which one?''

''The one at the far end.''

She started leading him down the corridor, but he grabbed her elbow and leaned into her slightly. ''Hey, we can't just go bursting in there.''

Her eyes dropped to his lips and back. ''Why not?''

''Remember when you first became a Navy cop and you were taught about something called Probable Cause?''

She rolled her eyes. ''Then what do you suggest we do?''

Honestly, he couldn't think of anything. All he could offer was a shrug. ''Maybe we could make out again until they re-emerge.''

Ziva took it good humour, which was probably the second best way she could have responded. Her head fell to the side as her eyebrows raised, her throaty chuckle enough to tell him the exact likelihood of that happening. But, before any more could be said or planned, the door to the cabin at the far end of the carriage opened and their mystery man did, in fact, re-emerge. It caught Tony off guard, but thankfully Ziva's reflexes could never be called into question.

And that was how he found himself up against the nearest door, with her lips on his again.

He was aware of two sets of eyes on them—their original suspect had now appeared too—but very little else outside of the bubble he found himself in with his partner. The more he kissed this woman, the more wanted to keep doing it. Preferably on a more consistent and long-term basis. The woman in question pulled away again and started fumble through her little clutch. Through his haze, he managed to peak in and catch sight of a knife, a SIG and some lipstick. The fact that he was more surprised to see the lipstick was a reminder of how long he'd known his ninja.

''I am sure I had the key in here,'' she told him.

He caught on immediately. ''I told you to give it to me, honey.'' He leaned down and kissed her cheek briefly. ''You're always losing the car keys at home.'' Her mouth fell open at that, so he kissed the look of fake offence off her face.

''It has to be somewhere,'' she continued afterwards, throwing in a little frustration into her tone.

He smirked. ''I'm not going to have to frisk you, am I?''

That earned him a genuine chuckle, and for a second it was easy to forget that they were playing any roles other than themselves. Too easy, in fact. It was all too natural and synchronised. It seemed to fool their audience as well, because Tony heard two sets of footsteps followed by the sound of the next set of doors opening and closing as they left for the next carriage. He breathed a sigh of relief as Ziva stepped away again. Her eyes following the retreating suspects.

He loosened the collar of his shirt and puffed out his cheeks. ''Wow. Is it hot in here?''

''It is just you,'' Ziva shot back, not really concentrating on him as she approached the cabin their persons of interest had recently left vacated.

''No. It definitely feels hotter in here.''

''Her hair was different.''

Now he was the confused one in the partnership. ''Come again?''

''She was blonde when she went through door,'' Ziva said, pointing in the direction that their suspects left in. ''And when they came back out she was holding an envelope, and she was brunette. I'm pretty sure she changed her clothes as well.''

Tony felt a little bit embarrassed not to have picked up on those things, but he gave himself a break. He did have Ziva attached to him at the time, and his back was to them as they left. ''You sure?''

''Positive,'' she assured him.

''Must have been a wig,'' he guessed. ''And maybe the envelope had a fake passport and papers.''

Ziva nodded. ''That's what I was thinking,'' she agreed, before stepping over to the room they used for the identity switching activities and pushing at the door. It creaked open to reveal a supply closet. It was just about big enough to contain two people, and there was an abandoned coat and smashed cell phone lying on the floor. It gave their shared theory even more ammunition.

They both looked from the closet to each other at the same time. ''I'm feeling pretty confident that she's guilty,'' Tony said with a small smile.

Ziva nodded. ''She is certainly on the run from something.''

''I think it's time to approach them.''

Another nod, but also scepticism. ''What about the armed man?''

''We can take him down too, but only if it's safe. She's the priority.''

''I agree.''

Ziva led the way as they swept through the next two carriages looking for any trace of their suspects. Tony recognised the brunette woman sat on her own in the middle of the third one, which was empty aside from two or three people who appeared to be sleeping. She may have changed her hair and coat, but he recognised that jaw line and nose. He'd always been good with faces— especially women's faces, admittedly.

He could tell Ziva spotted her, too, and when she stopped she made sure to be blocking any escape routes. Tony peaked over and caught sight of the passport picture their friend was looking at. It was a convincing, but ultimately fake, picture of a brunette woman who looked a lot like their blonde murder suspect. She looked up at them with enough edgy nervousness to let Tony know that she wouldn't be troublesome when they arrested her.

''Judy Garcia,'' Tony reads from the fake passport in her lap. ''Cute name. Not sure about the hair.''

She looks between them again and leans away slightly. ''Who are you?''

''People who are not easy to fool,'' Ziva answered smoothly.

Tony nodded. ''Yep. And my partner and I were just thinking. What possible reason could someone have for fleeing the country under a fake name and changing the most distinctive part of their appearance? Ziva?''

She played along. ''I am not sure. Maybe the murder of a Navy Lieutenant?''

''Yeah, that'll probably do it.''

Tony looked back down at the now terrified suspect—who he was pretty sure was now the official culprit—and gave her a smile that he'd been assured annoyed the crap out of people. She simply swallowed and looked down at her lap. ''Are you the police?'' she asked them.

''NCIS,'' Ziva announced, lifting her badge at the same time as Tony. ''You will remain under our watch until the next scheduled stop, and then we shall take you into custody and return you to DC to await trial.''

Her lips started trembling, a stark contrast to the emotionless expression and tone of Ziva. ''I'm under arrest?''

Tony nodded and raised his eyebrows. ''Oh, yeah. Your buddy from Phony Passports R Us won't be far behind, either. You should probably tell us where he went. Although, there is a limit to where you can hide on a moving train.''

There was a sudden movement in the corner of his eye, but before he could even turn his head the man in question was there. Only he wasn't hiding, as expected, and he had his 9mm gun pointed at Ziva's head from behind her. For a second, Tony felt paralysed. He instinctively went to pull out his sig from the ankle holster, but it was too far.

''Don't even think about it, cop!''

He held his hands out in a sign of cooperation, and looked into Ziva's eyes long enough to see that she had the situation under control. This guy didn't even know how stupid this was. ''Speak of the Devil. We were just talking about you, Mr...''

''Shut up!'' the man spat out. ''I ain't going back to jail.''

Tony laughed. ''So where are you going? The morgue?''

He poked his head around Ziva's shoulder, and Tony could tell he was a junkie just by looking at his eyes and red face. ''I mean it, man! Back off, or she gets a bullet.''

''What's your plan now, exactly?'' Tony asked, keeping his hands up. ''Really? I'm curious.''

''Stop the train and let me off,'' he commanded.

Ziva gave Tony the most subtle of nods, and that's how he knew she had weighed up her opponent and was ready to kick his ass. Tony didn't need to stall any longer. ''Um, no. Not going to happen, buddy.''

''I'll blow her brains out!''

Another look at Ziva only made Tony even more confident. ''Buddy, you chose the wrong person to hold at gunpoint.''

The next few seconds were a blur, even for Tony. He couldn't even imagine what they were like for the poor junkie holding the gun. Because before he could even respond to Tony's words, the elbow of an ex-Mossad officer connected with his face. Hard. That was followed by a spinning punch, an impressive kick to the nuts, and stamp on the wrist to disarm him. No shots were fired, and Tony released the breath he'd been holding and let out a shaky laugh as Ziva kicked away the 9mm.

He couldn't help but smile down at the junkie as she slapped a pair of cuffs on him. ''Oh, no. And just when I was starting to think your plan was fool-proof.'' He turned to their original arrestee, who was now sat as far into the corner of the seats as possible. ''Fist fights on a train. How very _From Russia With Love_.''

She gave him a look like everyone around her was crazy.

''Just so you know,'' Tony said, pointing in Ziva's direction. ''If you try and run, I'm sending her after you.''

There didn't seem to be much chance of that, though. 'Judy Garcia' looked a lot more terrified than she did in her passport picture. He suspected they would get a confession out of her before they even matched her finger prints to the murder weapon. He turned back to Ziva just as she was shoving the junkie into a pair of seats and cuffing him to the table in front of them. She stepped over to him when the idiot was secured.

''Was that exciting enough for you?'' he asked with a smirk.

She chuckled. ''I have had more thrilling confrontations.''

He felt his smile grow for a second, before reaching over and tapping her on the shoulder. ''You had me worried there for a second, Supergirl.''

She scrunched her nose at him, looking irresistibly cute. He wouldn't say that to her, though. Especially after seeing that impressive display.

''I always had him,'' she insisted.

''I know,'' he assured her, reaching over the brush a few loose strands of hair from her forehead. ''Is it inappropriate that I kind of want to kiss you again right now?'' he dared to ask.

His bravery was rewarded with one of Ziva's private, intimate smiles. The ones that never failed to make his stomach flip. ''At the moment? Yes, it is a little inappropriate,'' she answered eventually, and he was just about to let himself feel a little disappointed when she looked him up and down with a wicked smile. ''But perhaps it would be more appropriate later,'' she added more quietly.

The soft sincerity in her voice made him more than a just a little excited, but he tried to keep his head screwed on. Although, really, how could he not be counting down the seconds until they were off duty so he could take her up on her offer?

''I'm going to call Gibbs,'' he told her, reaching into his pocket to take out his cell. He knew that a conversation with his boss would keep his thoughts on the professional side for just that bit longer. Ziva nodded, but didn't get to respond before a dizzy sounding junkie called out from the seat he was trapped to.

''I want a lawyer!''

Ziva rolled her eyes. ''Shut up.''

Tony smiled at her as she sat down in the seat across the aisle from their two captured criminals. Although the news of Schmiel's illness was a kick to the gut, he was glad to hear that she wasn't made bored by the job or sick of her co-workers— (he, in particular, seemed to be right in her good books). Personally, he didn't think he could ever be bored whilst working at her side, and he was pretty sure that would remain the case for the next…. well, always, so he was happy that she appeared to be on the same page.

He was also pretty sure he and Ziva were ready to cross a line they'd been tip-toeing around forever. But, as he heard his boss' voice coming through his phone's speaker, he knew he would have to put that thought aside for the time being.

Hopefully not for too long, though.


	2. Plane

**This one turned out to be a lot fluffier and mushier than I was planning. But most of you lovely people that are still reading (not many these days, I know) seem to enjoy fluff. So sue me. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

''I better not have a crying baby behind me. Or in front of me. Or anywhere within hearing distance.''

Ziva sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. ''That is beyond our control.''

He didn't seem to be listening, and all she received in acknowledgment was a small grunt before he kept thinking out loud. ''I can just see it now.'' He was using that special tone of his that made it unclear whether he was being serious or not. ''It's going to be like a damn family fun day on this plane. I'll have screaming toddlers attacking me from all angles and an overweight, stinky stranger blocking my access to the aisle and trapping me for all eternity in this hellish—''

''Tony!'' she cut in impatiently, thankful that her sharper tone ended his rambling. Temporarily, at least. If the entire day before then was anything to go by, it would be back with a vengeance soon. ''Right now, the only whining toddler is the giant one at my side. Please, please, please just stop before I lose my temper!''

''I think you just did,'' he unhelpfully pointed out.

A quick glance up at his face was enough to tell her that at least a small part of him was, in fact, trying to deliberately wind her up. A ghost of a smile formed under his twinkling eyes and she felt herself rolling her eyes at the flight attendant as she handed her passport and boarding pass over. The young woman, who was fresh-faced and wearing a bit too much make up, held her polite smile in place. Ziva didn't particularly like the judgemental look that threatened to creep its way into her eyes, though.

Ziva gestured at Tony with a flick of her head. ''Is there a special man-child compartment I can lock him in?''

The woman's smile grew slightly. ''The overhead lockers are pretty big.''

''Noted,'' Ziva said with a quick raise of her eyebrows.

She stepped past the desk and span around to wait for the man-child in question, who seemed about as hurt as he ever did when she made a dig at him. He flashed that charming smile at the pretty, young thing and flicked his eyes at Ziva momentarily. ''She loves me really,'' he said after being handed back his passport.

''Oh, I have no doubt,'' the attendant responded as he stepped away from her desk and towards Ziva.

Although the statement was true, and she'd openly let him know that on numerous occasions, Ziva turned away with a huff and began walking down the corridor at speed. She was thankful for the raised walkway leading them straight to the plane's front doors. The icy winds outside would have cut right through them had they been forced to walk outside across the asphalt. Tony's footsteps grew louder and faster as he scurried up alongside her.

''Hey! Wait up, Miss Crab-apple.''

''We are getting on the same plane, Tony.''

He adjusted the carry-on bag held by his shoulder. ''You should never leave a man-child unattended.''

The smile on her own face was there before she knew it.

''Besides,'' he added, the humour clear in his voice. ''I might get lost without you.''

She gave him a dubious look. ''Down a straight hallway?''

''Stranger things have happened.''

Like the earlier smile, her chuckle came out of nowhere. Maybe it was just him. ''What, like you being quiet for more than 30 seconds?''

''Ziva David, I'm starting to think you only invited me along to carry your bags.''

They rounded the corner and he let her go ahead as they entered the doorway onto the plane itself. ''This trip was your idea, remember?'' She reminded him, before spinning around leaning up towards his face, inches away. ''Besides, I need someone to shield me from the fat, stinky strangers.''

He looked like he wanted to kiss her—Ziva knew that face well—but she had span away again before he had the chance. From over her shoulder, she heard a small _hmph_ of disapproval. ''The things I do for you, sweetcheeks. I must love you or something.''

Such a declaration, albeit one made in a tone such as that, never failed to spread warmth through her chest. There was nothing unexpected or unwelcome about the smile that pulled at her lips this time. Nothing forced. It was simply out of affection. She suspected that he could feel it from behind her even if he couldn't see it. That was just the way her man-child was.

 **...**

A short while later, after the safety presentations and 'commercial crap', as Tony called it, they were both strapped into their seats as the plane was being taxied to the runway. Ziva could tell her companion's mood had improved significantly since they'd boarded, and she was also very much aware of why. There were no toddlers within sight, no questionable smells, no noisy neighbours and—perhaps most importantly—the seat between Tony and the aisle remained empty. It left the two of them in their own little bubble next to the window, which Ziva had to admit was a far more pleasant outcome than she had been expecting when they'd agreed to give first class a skip.

By the time the plane was in the air and seatbelt signs went dark, Ziva was already feeling far more relaxed than she had done in months. Tony had been right about a vacation being a good idea. It was nice to put D.C to one side for a little while. She turned to the man next to her, who was busy unbuckling his seatbelt and shrugging off his jacket, and leaned towards him slightly.

''This is not so bad,'' she told him, her voice dropping to a quiet level that seemed more appropriate in their little bubble.

He looked around and gave her a nod. ''It looks like my prayers were answered for once.''

''I did not think you ever prayed.''

That earned her a smile. ''Maybe I should.''

Ziva released a low chuckle and leaned over to kiss him. That seemed to relax him even more. ''I am the only gift from God you will ever need,'' she murmured.

He hummed down at her. ''Don't I know it.''

She patted his cheek and leaned back again. ''Thank you for this.''

''You're welcome. But for what?''

''For the vacation,'' she said obviously.

''Oh. That.''

She nodded. ''It was a good idea. I think we both needed it.''

He let out a groan signifying just how much he was looking forward to it. ''White sand beaches and a crystal-clear ocean.''

She closed her eyes and indulged. ''Warm sun and fruity cocktails.''

''Not to mention the bikinis,'' he added, causing Ziva to open her eyes and shoot him a raised eyebrow. He seemed momentarily panicked, but managed to recover. ''Assuming, of course, that you brought more than one. Because I'm only interested in seeing you half-naked and no one else.''

Look at that, he'd forced another smirk out of her. ''Only half-naked?''

''With the optional extra of getting you fully naked whenever we're not in public.''

She scoffed. ''I charge extra for that.''

He smiled himself this time, before lifting her hand and kissing it softly. ''I'm looking forward to some us time. You know? No work, no worries. Just… us.''

There it was again, that warmth. That tingle. The way he seemed to be able to make her feel all soft and gooey with a few simple words. And he was right, really, because it had felt like their jobs had kept them away from each other for weeks. Sure, they lived together and shared a bed, but it had been too long since they'd had a chance to simply relax and enjoy some time in each other's presence without 3am phone calls and sleepless cases. It didn't help that they were no longer on the same team, and Ziva had to admit she missed him like a limb at times. But he was a busy team leader and she was still part of Gibbs' trusted unit, so it went without saying that their personal lives were suffering slightly.

Yet here they were. Ziva tried to soak it all in.

''Don't you think?'' Tony asked, successfully bringing her back to him.

''Yes,'' she agreed softly.

He met her halfway for a cosy kiss. ''Out of curiosity,'' he murmured afterwards, ''how many bikinis _did_ you bring?''

She nearly snorted. ''Tony, why do you have to ruin every nice moment?''

''Sorry. But I've got the image in my head now and it's giving me some naughty fantasies.''

She tilted her as she considered how to respond. It was always fun to tease him, so she went with that. ''Well, let's just say I have one bikini for every fantasy of yours that I plan on making a reality,'' she all-but purred, reaching over to stroke his chest as she did so. Tony visibly swallowed, and an intense darkness clouded his eyes. Oh, yes, it truly was fun to tease this man.

''It's suddenly feeling very hot on this plane.''

''Is it?''

He nodded as his eyes flicked down to her mouth. ''And I'm kind of hoping the whole damn suitcase is full of nothing but bikinis.''

A burst of laughter escaped her throat as she left his personal space again. ''That would not be practical.''

He scoffed, and loosened the collar of his shirt as she chuckled to herself. ''You sure do know how to play dirty, David.''

''Yes. And that bodes well for you.''

He groaned again and closed his eyes. ''Stop it.''

 **...**

A few hours later, Tony had grown quieter and quieter to the point where he had eventually fallen asleep on Ziva's shoulder. As comforting as she had found this at first, it had proven a little bit sore after a while. Not to mention the fact that she had run out of magazines to read. She had brought a book for this exact situation, but it was zipped up in her bag in the overhead locker. She sighed to herself and gently nudged Tony with her shoulder in an attempt to wake him up. All she got was a slight moan.

''Tony?''

He murmured something incoherent.

''Tony, wake up.''

'' _aaahh_ teleporter…'' he slurred.

She frowned down at him. ''What?''

He jolted awake with a start. ''Son of a—I knew he got it out of that basement somehow!'' When his squinting eyes had checked his surroundings and eventually settled on her, he finally seemed to realise he was awake. '' _mmmm,''_ he hummed as he burrowed back into her shoulder. ''You're a nice face to wake up to. And a quite a good pillow.''

''Um, thank you…''

''What's with the rise and shine? We about to land?''

She felt momentarily guilty for waking him up. ''I need to get up for a second.''

''But you're my pillow.''

She smiled and kissed the top of his head. ''Yes. That is the problem.''

Reluctantly, he sat upright and stretched out his arms as she got up and shuffled over his legs towards the aisle. She enjoyed the free feeling of not being sat down and trapped in a corner for a few seconds before she opened the locker and began searching through the bag for her book. She had just got her hands on it when Tony called up to her.

''Ziva?'' She looked past her upstretched arm and down to him. ''Could you put my jacket up there?''

She reached down and took it from him. ''You would feel more secure with it in here?'' she teased.

To her surprise, though, he seemed surprisingly serious as he turned back and looked out the window. ''Something like that.''

Ziva frowned to herself momentarily but thought little of it.

That was until a small box fell out of his jacket pocket as she stuffed it in the locker. Her heart was slamming and her stomach was flipping even before she could confirm what it was. She glanced down at Tony to make sure he was still trying to see the ocean below them, before picking up the box—oh God, it _was_ a ring box—and keeping it at eye level as she inspected it. It was almost surreal, almost inconceivable to her, and yet it made perfect sense at the same time. She'd suspected he'd had something planned for a while, something bigger than a sunny holiday. And now he had revealed what it was. Well, she had accidentally found it out, anyway, and she suspected that his surprise was now ruined. As awful as she felt about that, it wasn't the guilt that had her pulse racing and her throat feeling impossibly tight.

But, to Ziva's relief, it wasn't nerves either. She felt more than ready to take this step with him. She was already adamant that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this brilliant, caring, funny man, and she was already pretty certain said man felt the same way about her. This ring box made it abundantly clear that he was, and something about that fact made her feel impossibly lucky. Because, if she was honest with herself, she gave up on a happily ever after a long time ago. Tony had filled her life with hope from the moment she had met him, and now her life was immeasurably happier because of it.

Before she knew what she was doing, and as if she was in some sort of trance, she was opening the box. It was open a crack—yes, that was definitely a ring—before she came to her senses and slammed it shut it again. It wasn't fair on Tony that she'd found the box in the first place, and it would be even more unfair if she saw the jewellery itself as well. She wiped at her suddenly moist eyes and returned the box to his jacket pocket. She looked back down at Tony and felt a million butterflies in her stomach.

''Tony?'' Her voice was quite weak, but it was loud enough for him to turn back to her with a soft look in his eyes. It only intensified the feeling of her bones melting.

''What's up?''

Ziva wasn't sure what to say. Should she just be honest and admit she'd ruined his surprise? Should she just say yes there and then? Should she be careful not to work off the assumption that he was actually planning on proposing in the first place, just in case he wasn't? In the end, she decided that she had to say _something,_ at least, to avoid worrying him.

She cleared her throat. ''Did you want your gummy bears?'' she settled on asking, before taking them out of the bag and holding them out for him.

''Oh yeah,'' he said as he took them from her. ''Forgot about those. Thanks.''

''You're welcome.''

''I was just starting to feel snacky.''

She smiled to herself. ''That is a first.''

After Ziva had taken a few more moments to compose herself, she took her book and closed the locker. Tony hadn't opened the Gummy Bears yet, and the window still seemed to be holding the majority of his attention. She ducked down and moved in to lean her hand on his shoulder. He looked back up at her, and the butterflies were back again. Along with the tingles and the chest-warmth and general feeling of happiness.

 _Only her man-child._

''Sorry,'' he whispered, moving his legs to the side so she could get past.

''Never apologise,'' she whispered back.

Her right hand remained on his shoulder, and her left hand moved up to caress his stubbly cheek as she leaned down and gave him the warmest, most loving kiss she'd ever given anyone. She poured all her love and appreciation into it, and his initial surprise made way for and equal return of warmth within a split second. This was her saying yes, even before he'd asked her the question. This was her devoting herself to the man she loved. Incidentally, that was another idea she had given up on a few times in her life before Tony.

She pulled away after a few moments and rested her forehead against Tony's. His eyes remained closed as he spoke quietly up to her. ''What was that for?''

''I am not sure. I must love you or something.''

His intimate, private smile stretched over his cheeks. ''Isn't that a coincidence.''

She hummed against him. ''There is no such thing.'' She gave him another quick kiss. ''Now move over. You can have the window seat.''

The smile made way for a look of scepticism as she stood back up from him. ''Really?''

''Sharing is caring, yes?''

And the smile was back. ''So the saying goes.'' He got up for a second to lift his butt over the armrest and place it down on the window seat. ''But if you think I'm sharing my Gummy Bears then you've got another thing coming.''

She sat down on his warm seat and picked her book up. ''I'm sure I will get over it.''

Tony let out a content sigh as he looked back out the window. ''Now I've got something pretty on my right _and_ my left.'' He spun his head back to Ziva with what she could sense was a DiNozzo grin.

''You are a lucky man,'' she drawled.

''God really is smiling down on me today.''

As they flew closer and closer to what Ziva was sure would prove to be the most important vacation of her life—and the best, for that matter—she couldn't help but feel the same way.

* * *

 **Fluff city. Thanks for reading, guys. Not sure how often I'll be posting from now on, but you may see me from time to time. I'll at least try to get 'Automobiles' done.**


	3. Automobile

**Currently living on the other side of the world, so haven't done much writing during the adjustment. Hope you likey. Please reviewy**

* * *

Tony was used to late night phone calls. Painfully used to them, in fact. Countless cases had begun with a rude awakening at the hands of his cell phone as it buzzed from the night stand or coffee table. It happened so often throughout some months that it kind of made him feel like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Unfortunately, the cases were never as funny as that movie, and his boss was not exactly the type who woke you up using music and a friendly greeting. If Tony had to sum it up, he'd say it was more like being head-slapped back into consciousness.

So, it was no shock to the system when he found himself being not-so-gently coaxed from his slumber at midnight on a Saturday. Well, he supposed it was technically Sunday now, but whatever. He was still too sleepy to call it the morning. By the time his eyes managed to focus on the screen, he was mildly surprised to see Ziva's name lighting it up. His first assumption was still that it would be somehow case-related, but he would rather hear her voice at this time of night than anyone else's— (for reasons he should never delve into in this sleepy state)- so he would take her over his boss any day.

''Shalom,'' he greets after a yawn.

''Tony?'' Her voice sounds somewhat distressed. ''Did I wake you?''

The concern her tone elicits makes him sit up and feel more alert. ''I was having a great dream about a world where a full night's sleep actually exists,'' he jokes, hoping it might calm her down somehow. ''What's up? Are you okay?''

''I am fine. It is the damn ice and snow!'' she rages, before Tony hears her grunt as she presumably kicks something hard. ''I thought these stupid tires were supposed to be designed to handle it.''

His level of concern dropped a few notches when he was fairly sure she wasn't hurt. ''What happened, Ziva?''

There was a heavy sigh and he could picture her looking up to sky in that cute way she does when she's embarrassed. ''I went off the road.''

He couldn't help but smile. ''You crashed?''

''Wipe that smile off your face,'' she mutters. ''I did not crash. It was icy around a corner and the car lost traction. And now it's stuck in a snowy ditch.''

''That sounds a lot like a crash to me.''

''It was not my fault.''

This time it was him sighing. ''If you say so. Did you call me just to tell me I was right about your terrible driving all along, or do you need help?''

''The second one,'' she answered eventually. ''I know you have been borrowing Gibbs' truck, and I thought that would handle the conditions well enough—''

''—For me to come and get you,'' he cut in.

''If you would not mind. I can walk if it is too much trouble.''

Tony suddenly remembered just how cold it was outside and found himself jumping out of bed and getting dressed before he knew what he was doing. ''No way am I leaving you out there, Ziva.'' He was slightly taken aback by just how determined he was feeling suddenly. Not to mention worried. ''And you should stay in the car with the heating on. It's freezing outside,'' he told her.

''Yes, I noticed. But the car is on its side.''

He used his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear as he hopped around to get his socks on. ''Jesus. Are you sure you're okay?''

''I am fine, Tony.'' Her tone had softened significantly since the start of the call, but he could practically hear her teeth chattering now. ''I was wearing my seatbelt.''

Tony stumbled into his shoes and grabbed his coat from the rack. ''Great. That's step one of driving safely. Now we just need to teach you how to slow down around corners.''

It was easy to tell she had no patience for his usual criticism of her driving. ''Are you coming to get me or not?''

He picked up the truck keys off the side. ''I'm leaving now. Where are you?''

 **...**

As it turned out, Ziva was a lot further away than Tony had hoped. It felt like the bend he found her on was in the middle of nowhere. He could see the silhouette of his partner, hunched over and arms folded, no doubt an unsuccessful attempt to keep warm as she stood next to her wrecked car. He also felt even more concerned for her welfare when he noticed she wasn't wearing a coat. Not even a jacket. As soon as he pulled over and brought the vehicle to a halt, the passenger door was ripped open as Ziva practically dived into the truck.

''Please turn up the heating,'' she begged breathlessly. ''Full blast.''

He did as she asked, and looked her up and down. ''Ziva, you're practically blue.'' She turned her head towards him with chattering teeth. ''Are you sure a hospital isn't a good idea right now?''

She just about managed to squeeze out a 'no.'

''You might have hypothermia, or pneumonia, or—where's your jacket, by the way?''

She looked away angrily, but he expected it was more aimed at herself. ''At home.''

Realisation dawned on him that his big, puffy, blue coat must have been a hell of taunt for her right now. He unzipped it and shook it off his shoulders before wrapping it around her. She seemed reluctant to take it, for some unknown reason, but apparently lacked the energy to fight it off.

''No,'' she protested weekly, ''your lungs.''

He could only offer a confused frown at that. ''What about my lungs?''

''The cold will make you sick.''

Although he was touched by her concern for him, he couldn't help but feel like she was worrying about the wrong person. ''Hey, don't you dare worry about me,'' he ordered in a soft tone. ''You're the one who looks like a they should have icicles sticking out of their nostrils.''

To his monumental relief, she cracked a smile. He felt his heart become all warm and fuzzy suddenly—not exactly an unfamiliar feeling in her presence—but then she started rubbing her hands together over the heaters and he was forced not to dwell on it for too long. Probably for the best, really.

''Besides,'' he added, reaching over to hold both her hands between his, ''I'm warm.'' He rubbed her icy-cold fingers as gently as he could. ''Really warm. See?''

He lifted their conjoined hands upward and breathed hot air over them from his mouth. When he looked back up at Ziva, her eyes were on him and the look she was giving him was so desperately longing and grateful that it immediately brought Tony's warm and fuzzy feelings back. Tenfold, in fact. He wasn't sure how long they spent staring at each other like they were each the most valuable thing in the world, but after what felt like a lifetime, Tony swallowed the newly-formed lump in his throat. Her shivering had already begun to slow down, and he could feel some warmth returning to her hands, but that didn't make him any less worried.

''I'm sorry,'' Ziva murmured after a few more seconds.

Again, this only confused Tony. ''What for?''

Her eyes fell to their bundle of hands. ''For dragging you out of bed in the middle of the night.''

''Well, if the alternative was you freezing to death out here on your own…'' He shrugged, hoping he wouldn't have to explain himself any further. She seemed to get what he was saying, and he even felt her give his hand a little squeeze before she let go of him and allowed him to set about driving the car once more.

''You are a good man, Tony,'' she said sincerely as he pulled back onto the road.

Damn fuzzy feelings. ''Only to you.''

''That's not true.''

Was she trying to make him blush? ''You rarely see me rushing to McGee's rescue in the middle of a blizzard.''

Ziva chuckled quietly this time, a sound that he always enjoyed immensely but that sounded even better now he knew she was okay. ''I'm sure if he asked you to rescue him you would be there in a heartbeat.''

He considered that for a moment. ''Maybe not this late. For him, I draw the line at 2200.''

Again, she seemed unconvinced. ''What is your rule about never staying on the bench when your team is in trouble?''

''Side lines,'' he corrected. ''And that rule doesn't mention anything about side lines that contain warm, comfortable beds.''

''It is heavily implied by the word _never_.''

Tony supposed she was right, but before he could acknowledge that in any way a question entered the forefront of his mind and completely hijacked his brain. He was almost in a state of shock that it wasn't the first thing he'd asked her that night, in fact. When it came to Ziva's private life, he was ordinarily very unashamed of how curious he was. However, when he'd answered his cell earlier, nightmarish thoughts and concerns about her welfare took priority before his brain could catch up. Now, though, he figured he was free to resume normality.

''What exactly were doing out on the road at this time on a Saturday?''

As he'd partially expected, the question caught Ziva off guard slightly. Tony figured it wasn't so much his changing of the subject that muddled her brain in this shivery state, but more the abrupt manner in which he did it. Either way, it took her a few seconds to answer. ''I was having dinner. And it is technically Sunday now.''

Tony felt his heart sink, but was still stupid enough to ask his next question after a tight nod. ''Hot date?'' His attempt at sounding casual was a bad one, and he felt her eyes burning into him after she turned her head his way.

''Just some friends,'' she said, perhaps a little too gently. ''They live quite far out of town.''

The pressure in his chest lifted, and he had to focus an embarrassing amount of attention on not giving away just how relieved he really was. ''Sounds nice.''

''It was,'' she confirmed.

''Did these friends not warn you against driving in this weather.''

Ziva continued to rub the life back into her hands. ''Yes, but I knew I would be fine.''

He couldn't help but scoff at that. ''You can't say the same for the car, though.''

There was a chance she might get defensive about her driving—which was often the case in these conversations—so Tony was pleasantly surprised when she appeared to take it in relatively good humour with a small hum of acknowledgment. He could even see her smiling in the corner of his eye.

''Perhaps you are rubbing out on me, Tony.''

He nearly snorted. ''Off. Rubbing off.''

''Is there a difference?''

''Yeah,'' he nodded. ''There's a difference. A very big difference.'' He wasn't going to explain further, though. Not to Ziva of all people.

''Whatever.'' Her now-functional hand was waved dismissively in his direction. ''My point is that your habit of destroying cars must be rubbing _off_ on me.''

That forced a chuckle out of him. ''You may be on to something there, detective. I certainly have a poor track record.''

''Yes.'' This time he could just _feel_ her smile. Was that weird? ''It is almost impressive.''

''I'm still stinging over that Corvette.''

''I thought that was a Mustang?'' Ziva asked, confused.

He shook his head after coming to a brief halt at a stop sign, before pulling out of the intersection and onto the empty road back towards the city. ''No, that was the one after. My Corvette was the victim of a televised joy ride down the freeway. It will forever be in my shortlist of the worst things I've ever watched on a screen. Just behind Battlefield Earth and anything with Adam Sandler in it.''

After a throaty chuckle—the kind that always got him feeling all tingly on the inside—Ziva clicked her fingers in realisation. ''Ah, yes. You have mentioned this before. It was before we met, yes?''

Tony found it weird thinking about any period of time when Ziva wasn't a part of his life. ''Yeah, I guess it was.''

''At least you weren't at fault for that one.''

He could tell by her tone that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but that didn't stop him from giving her exactly what she wanted. ''Hey! I'll have you know, David, that I have never been at fault for any of my dead automobiles. Someone else always wrecks them.''

There was that smirk on her face now. The one that he used to simultaneously love and hate when he first met Ziva. Now he pretty much just loved it. And everything else that came attached. ''I'm sure they do.''

Pushing each other's buttons had always been fun, so what the hell? ''You've witnessed first-hand some of the atrocities my insurance premiums have faced. That Mustang you mentioned earlier? Do you happen to remember a minor incident where it was blown to smithereens?''

He felt her mood shift as he jogged her memory, and, all of sudden, guilt burned away at his insides. ''Thank you for triggering memories of watching you die,'' she said sarcastically. ''That was one of the worst days of my life,'' she answered far more seriously. ''And I have had some very, _very_ bad days.''

Now he was really regretting bringing this up. ''Yeah, it did kind of suck.''

''However, I do concede that you weren't at fault in that instance.''

He nodded in appreciation, despite feeling like an ass. ''Well, I obviously pissed off the wrong person if it meant they wanted me to be turned into charcoal.''

Again, she hummed in agreement. ''I have done that many times myself.''

''Maybe I should take a small percentage of the blame.''

Her serious tone and mood didn't show any sign of disappearing as she looked out of the passenger window in what looked like deep thought for a few quiet moments. ''In fairness to you, I take all the blame for the last time your car was totalled.''

She sounded guilty and apologetic, but Tony frowned as he struggled to figure out what she was referring to. The only thing that sprung to mind was…Oh. Suddenly, he had a flashback to Ziva telling him about her family history with Orli, and what her finger would look like with a diamond on it, and her beautiful smile after he'd told her that he rather liked the way she'd turned out as a person. Hell, he could still feel the softness of her hand as he held onto it in a show of solidarity, support and just plain old affection. He'd never felt so close to her in all his life, and then…crash. Another day, another moment between them ruined. He hadn't even thought about that particular incident when they were talking about his vast list of dead cars, but now he was more concerned about Ziva blaming herself for the way it unfolded than he was about the red sports car he lost.

''That was not your fault, Ziva.''

He could see her shrug one shoulder in an effort to come across as casual, but when she spoke her partially choked voice gave her away. ''It was my mess, and I dragged you into it.''

It occurred to Tony that they'd never really discussed it in the months since it happened. He didn't think this was a great time or place, but there was no way he was leaving her to live with this self-imposed guilt for another second. ''You've never dragged me into anything. Ever.''

He could have sworn he saw her swipe away at the corner of one of her eyes. ''You could have died. All because of my reckless desire for vengeance.''

''Hey, I wanted to get that bastard too, you know. He took a lot more than just my car.''

She leaned over and placed her hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. ''I never thanked you.''

Now he definitely knew he shouldn't have been having this discussion whilst driving. But, being the man that he was, he had to scratch that itch. ''For what? Picking you up?''

''No,'' she shook her head. ''Well, yes, but I was talking in a broader sense.'' She let out a heavy sigh and began drumming her fingers along his knee. He wondered if she even realised she was doing it. ''I have never thanked you for always being there for me. For having my back when I need it watched the most. For getting up in the middle of the night to come and rescue me from a blizzard. For…everything.''

Wow. He'd never been happier to see a red light in his life. Her show of gratitude had made it difficult for him to concentrate on driving. He looked over at her and found himself struggling to form words. God, this woman had no idea what she could do to him with a few simple sentences. Or maybe she did, and that was why it looked like there was tears forming in her eyes. What was it about the dead of night that brought so much honesty to the surface? He was just as surprised by his own willingness to be open with her than he was at the fact that her usual emotional walls had been well and truly demolished.

''You never thanked me because you never have to. Not for any of it.''

She nodded tightly. ''But I wanted to.''

He didn't think her eyes had ever looked more entrancing than they did in this moment. ''I'll always be here, Ziva. Whatever you need from me, I'm here.''

''I know you are. I have taken you for granted for too long,'' she said apologetically. ''And I know I must drive you crazy sometimes—''

''—Most of the time.''

She smiled in concession. ''Okay, most of the time. But I need you to understand that I am grateful for you. I don't think you'll ever know how much.''

 _This woman._ He felt his own eyes start to grow prickly with unshed tears, and there was so much he wanted to say to her in response, but for some reason all he could do was lift her hand from his knee and kiss her knuckles. It brought back her grateful, longing look from earlier and immediately liquefied his insides. Well, crap. Not even the heaviest dosage of denial could hide the fact that he was pretty in love with her right now. It made him feel a little more daring than usual, too.

''Is it wrong that I really want to kiss you right now?''

Her eyes flicked to his mouth and back, and if there was any shock or doubt triggered within her by his words, she didn't show it. ''What is stopping you?''

The nervousness is swallowed back down his throat. ''The same thing that's always stopped me. I just can't tell what it is.''

Before any more could be said—or, more accurately with their history, unsaid—Ziva stretched over and did exactly what he wouldn't do. The kiss was warm and soft and very much overdue, and he found himself in an almost dream-like state from the moment it began to the moment she ended it. When it was finished, she reached up and brushed her fingers over his stubbly cheek. He could confirm with absolute certainty that it was the most important kiss of his life.

''I need to pick you up more often,'' he joked.

She smiled again. ''Well, I officially don't have a car at the moment, so you are probably right.''

Another effortless chuckle escaped from within him. ''I'm really glad you didn't freeze to death.'' He hoped the light and soft tone they'd set would remain, despite the sincerity behind his words. Luckily, it did.

''And I am glad you agreed to escort me home.''

He shrugged it off. ''That's what I'm here for.''

Ziva gestured to the traffic lights with her head. ''It is a green light.''

Part of him really wanted to know how she could see that without even properly looking at it, but then he remembered that she had always found new ways to amaze him, right from day one. As he finally pulled his gaze away from Ziva's and got the truck moving again, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd just been the given the green light in more ways than one.

As far as late night calls go, this didn't turn out so bad.

* * *

 **I always end up with super-fluffy endings. But, you know what, I think we've had enough tragedy and denial when it comes to these two, so screw it. Cheers for reading. And if you are looking for any other Tiva stories that are being updated on a regular basis at the moment, I highly recommend 'In Between Days' by aka-elsie-snuffin and 'Wild as the Wind' by Aksannyi. They're both awesome writers so I'm sure you'll have heard of them anyway.**


	4. Bike

Ziva could remember when she'd first learned how to ride a bike. She, like most kids, had found the experience mesmerising. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being free from the training wheels and gliding along the ground on only two wheels. There was a sense of freedom about it, a magic that could never quite be replicated from that moment onwards. It truly was a pivotal part of any child's development and growth. A moment to fondly remember for children and parents alike.

She could recall being instructed by a combination of her father and Ari—both of whom were far more patient and gentle back in those days—as she made several attempts to stay upright on her little blue bicycle, slowly making her way across the olive growth back in Israel. As with a lot of things she'd learned in her early life, she picked it up pretty quickly. It wasn't too long before she was circling the house every minute of every day, with no more training wheels and, when she could get away with it, no protective head gear. Something about the wind slicing through her curls had felt surreal at the time.

It wasn't her father's words that had stuck with her, though. And even Ari, who was far more empathetic and understanding than Eli, couldn't be heard in Ziva's memories whenever she thought back to that day. Instead, it was her baby sister whose little shrieks echoed on eternally, bringing a simultaneous mixture of joy and grief to Ziva's heart as she stood in her own back yard decades afterwards.

 _Fly, Ziva! Fly!_

The toddler would jump up and down excitedly as she watched from their porch. It was forever etched in Ziva's memory, along with most of Tali's cruelly short life.

In the present, she watches her sister's namesake prepare to go through the same process. She was fully kitted out, with a helmet and all the padding—something her daddy had insisted upon. There was that mixed expression of concentration and excitement spread across her little face that always made Ziva smile. It sparked a brightness that would never fade, much like the distinctively yellow bike the young DiNozzo had picked out for herself.

With help from her ever-present father, a steady rock who provides safety and assistance at all times— (for both mother and daughter, really)—Tali mounts her birthday present and holds onto the handles with a wickedly familiar grin. Camera at the ready, Ziva takes a quick snap of what would become a treasured childhood memory.

''You ready, cutie-pie?'' Tony asks, crouched down and mirroring the smile on his daughter's face. His right hand is the only thing keeping the bike upright, and his enthusiasm and excitement is almost a match for Tali's.

Almost.

''Yeah!'' she nods, looking up to Ziva in anticipation. ''You watching, Ima?''

 _Always._ ''You are going to do great, _tatelah_.''

The parents share a brief, loaded look before Tony turns back to the object of their affection. ''Okay, Tali-bear. I'm going to start pushing you forwards in a second and all you've got to do is peddle. Nice and fast, just like always. Got it?''

Another nod. ''Are you gonna let go?''

The look of worry on Tali's face causes Tony to look knowingly in Ziva's direction. They both know that this was one occasion where most fathers had to break their child's trust for the greater good. It was hard, though, for him to lie to her. He wanted nothing less than her full trust. Ziva was sure he'd still have it after this, no matter what the outcome was.

Reluctantly, he ploughs on. ''I won't let go.''

The offspring of two observant investigators doesn't seem convinced. ''Promise?''

''I promise.''

And so, with one final check-up, Tony starts to push the bike along. The way Tali's face lights up makes Ziva's chest hurt. It was only after wheels reach full speed, and when Tony decides to let go, that the memory of the young girl's deceased aunt enters Ziva's brain again.

 _Fly, Ziva! Fly!_

With a reversed role in the present, Ziva finds her eyes burning as she watches her daughter glide along the grass, giggling and squeaking as her legs propel her onwards. It really was as if she was flying, and now she fully understands what it was like to watch this moment through the eyes of an adoring family member. Through the eyes of a toddler, like her sister had been., She feels as though her heart may not be big enough for this.

 _Fly!_

After a moment of misbalance, Tali glances behind her to discover that her dad had, in fact, broken his promise. With another small shriek, she somehow manages to bring the bike to halt without falling down, chucking it to the ground as she does so. The scowl she gives Tony when she turns around could crush metal, be he seems unperturbed.

''Wow! Tali, you went so far!'' he claps encouragingly as both parents approached her.

Ziva shares his feelings. ''See? I said you would do great. I'm so proud of you, baby.''

Even after Ziva presses a soft kiss to her cheek, the glare doesn't shift from Tali's face.

''You promised, daddy!''

Ziva feels his internal wince, but he plays innocent. ''Huh?''

Tali folds her arms in a huff. ''You letted go!''

''No, I didn't.''

''Yes, you did. Ima, he did.''

She takes her partner's side on this one. ''I don't think he did _._ You were just too fast for him, _neshema._ ''

Tony jumps at the chance to offer up a convincing excuse. ''Yeah, exactly. Too fast.''

''He just wasn't expecting you to be so good on the bike already.''

The scowl slowly fades as that's processed. Eventually, Tali's original excitement returns. She goes to pick the bike back up. ''I wanna go again.''

Tony gives Ziva a quick kiss in thanks, and then crouches down to help again. ''Sure thing. This time I want you to keep peddling, even if I have to let go again, ok?''

''You're too slow.'' Tali grins up at him.

He can only chuckle in return. ''That's right. I can't keep up with my little racer.''

They spend the rest of the afternoon watching as their child becomes more and more confident on her bright yellow bike. She goes further, peddles faster, always looking over her shoulder to make sure one or both of them are watching. Ziva thinks it is perhaps one of the best days of her life. Then again, both members of her little family have made her feel like that on numerous occasions in the past, and will no doubt continue to do so in the future.

Curls continue to blow in the breeze, and the giddy smile of a free child never looks like fading.

 _Fly, my Tali. Fly._

* * *

 **God, I'm a real softy, aren't I? This isn't necessarily set after the events of Family First, but it can be if you want it to, I guess. I prefer a world where the family isn't estranged. Hope you liked**


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